Followers of the Goddess
by Scrumptious treat
Summary: Sometime before the War between Gods and Humans, there lived a Goddess, known as Felice. Benevolent as she was, many talented women headed out to join her. Although there is nothing but glimmering light, a shadow rears its head at the sight.
1. Chapter 1

The shuffle of two feet were heard in the dark, and cold forest. A cloaked figure, garbed in red, kept warm with a floating flame by her side. The fire illuminated brightl, so that her path would be lit a few feet or so. It would flicker every now and then due to the wind. She couldn't blame the weather, especially since it was her decision to wander off during the later months of Autumn.

Anything to get away from that old life of her's. Empty, dull, and lifeless. Every day seemed to drag along, with the hours of the sun. Then again, what was the point of it rising, if she would continue on with the same old routine. More experiments, and research. How could one enjoy their life if the only thing they ever do, was willed upon you, just because of your family's name?

A swirling mass of leaves blew her way, as the bellow of a beast sounded from behind a thick brush. Any leaf that wandered near her, would be burned to a crisp as a single spark from the lone fire jumped out. Staring at the ground with a bored look, her vermillion eyes slowly made their way back up. Snapping every branch and twig in her path, she pushed through the collection of shrubs and tree, and stumbled upon a scene.

Two figures standing underneath the moonlight; one, a hulking beast, with a snout fitting for a wolf, but a body belonging to an overgrown bear. And a woman, sporting a skin tight dark suit, purple thigh high boots, and a jacket. Her short silver hair was adorned with a lone strand that stood straight in the air. In her right hand, she wielded a longsword, with four protrusions sticking out of the edge like fangs.

As the beast lunged at her, she effortlessly moved out of the way, with a small crackle of yellow following her. Intrigued by what she was using, the cloaked woman snapped her fingers. With it, came an enhanced version of her five senses. With each movement of the warrior, a trail of electricity would follow her. The blade itself seemed to be enchanted with the element.

Despite the beast's size, its claw swipes were one to be reckoned with. That's what she thought, until the woman moved in, and with the kick of her heel, sent the beast sprawling to the side. Amazed by the sight, a small smile cracked on her lips. The silver haired warrior rushed to the being. It was defenseless; the perfect moment for a counter attack. Just as she reached it, the blade was dropped to the side carelessly, and her boot went smashing into what she presumed to be its neck. A loud clang, followed by a whimper sounded throughout the small clearing.

Getting back up to her feet, the silver haired warrior picked up a golden amulet that was shattered thanks to her kick. The sound of rustling grass was heard right besides her, and she noticed it was the creature, unharmed from the devastating attack. "Sorry about that." She smiled, placing a behind its ears. Scratching the fluffy mess of fur, the creature let out what appeared to be a serious of pants, as it soon began licking her cheek. Before she knew it, the thing had tackled her to the ground, and nuzzled her with a ferocity of a pup.

All that could be heard was her laughter as the animal showed her affection. Contemplating on whether or not to come out of hiding, she was suddenly knocked over by a small bolt of lightning. It packed quite the punch, and made a groan escape her lips. As soon as she opened her eyes, the silver haired woman was seen standing over her. Those deep seated emerald eyes gazed down at her.

"Mind telling me what you're doing here?" She asked. Struggling to get up, the cloaked woman frantically grasped at the trees to gain leverage. "I…was just…" Her voice trailed off. It was obvious that she had no social skills whatsoever. Especially since she spent her time locked up in her laboratory. "You were, what?" She questioned yet again, her eyes narrowing down at her.

"Observing…" Finishing, the red cloaked figure finally got up, on weak knees. "I...don't mean to cause trouble. If there's something wrong, I can-" A loud growl came sounding from her stomach. Despite being seen as a genius from her family, she forgotten the essentials of survival. Tipping over her red hat witches hat, she excused herself from the scene.

Sighing to herself, the silver haired woman ran over to pick up her weapon, and made her way back to the cloaked figure. Cutting her off at a corner, she was left panting. "H-Hey! You can't just leave!" She yelled, trying to regain her breath. Tilting her head in confusion, the witch's expression had one of mild interest. "Look, I can tell you've been through some tough times, but you wouldn't mind if I treated you to some dinner, right?"

"Is...this...one of those things people call...dates...?" Mentioning the name itself caused the warrior's face to paint itself red. The bright red stains on her cheeks weren't those of the cool, collected, and albeit, cocky woman. "N-No, that isn't….I mean, it probably…" Groaning in frustration, she stamped her heel into the ground. "All I want, is to make sure you're well fed." She admitted.

Still not fully understanding the gesture, she just shook her head. "You and I...just met. How is this...appropriate? You shouldn't care about me." She countered. Opening her mouth, the thought was interrupted as the silver haired woman hacked at a nearby tree. The steel sank into the bark deeply, scarring it. "Let's go get some late night dinner!" The witch said cheerfully out of character.

Smiling at her, the silver haired woman pulled the weapon out of the tree, before it came tumbling down. A loud thud sounded throughout the forest, sending a small shockwave across the area. "Great! Don't want to keep you waiting." She said, leading her out of the forest. Walking down a dirt road, the town lights nearby shined in the dark of night, like stars.

With her weapon sheathed into its scabbard, the warrior turned her head to face the witch. "The names Pamela." She introduced herself. Her companion, on the other hand, was too nervous to greet her. Pulling up on the oversized collar on her dress, she hid behind the wall of clothing. "I see you're not one for talking." Pamela joked, scratching the back of her head.

"Sh...She…." A few mumbles escaped her, as she tried her best answering the warrior. Smiling apologetically at her, the silver haired woman shook her hands. "It's fine if you don't want to answer. I only wanted to know your name." Feeling a sense of guilt well up inside her, the witch stared at the ground. She was really trying her best to make herself as small as possible.

Shrugging, Pamela grinned as she sped up. Her walk was now a brisk jog, challenging the witch to speed up. This alarmed her. Was she just going to leave her after promising to treat her to something? Could someone be this cruel? Panicking, she began running to her. But what was considered running for her, was just jogging to the warrior. She wasn't the most physically fit due to her dependence on magic, and it showed.

She struggled to keep pace with her as they made it into town. Unluckily enough for her, she was lost now. With no sight of Pamela anywhere. Shaking from exhaustion, she leaned against the wall of a tavern. Heavy breaths of air sent puffs of cold smoke blowing out. Exhausting her magical resources thanks to the lack of energy, she trudged through the doors. Inside, was a brightly lit room, with a fireplace warming it up. The tavern keeper was too busy cleaning out mug to notice her drag herself to a booth.

Her eyes grew heavy with sleep, making it difficult for her to keep them open. Once she made it to the comfy cushioned seat, her hat fell to the side, and she slipped into slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

I really had too much fun writing this story, hue. I wanted to try out my writing on a more serious note for awhile, and so, I decided to do it on this wonderful batch of ladies. Although for right now, you'll just have to stick with these two.

/

Enjoy!

* * *

Searching desperately for any signs of the witch, Pamela ran through the empty streets of the town. With the distant sound of waves crashing into the port, she couldn't have been so far behind, right? The last time she checked, she was right behind her. "Why didn't I just wait up for her? You idiot! You even knew that she was already starving!" Kicking herself for what she had done, the silver haired woman glanced down empty alleyways for signs of her.

Sprinting down the street, she took notice of a tavern. It was still open, and the last place she could ask for information. Crashing through the entrance, the loud thud caused the keeper to jump from his spot. Oddly enough, he wasn't at his usual post. But for some odd reason, nearby a booth. When he moved from the spot, she caught sight of her.

"What do you think you're doing!? Assaulting a woman while she's defenseless!?" In a flash, she had him pinned against a table. Bending his arm at an uncomfortable angle. "If you so much as had a mind, you wouldn't dare lay a finger on her!" She exclaimed, tightening her grip on him. All that he could mutter were a few cries, and plead for her to stop. Although, this did anything but quell her rage.

With all the ruckus she was causing, the witch stirred from her slumber. The empty pit in her stomach was still present, but she had enough energy to register two figures fighting. Well, at least one interrogating the other. Wiping her eyes of sleep, she felt a cloth surround her body. Feeling the soft fabric, it turned out to be a blanket.

Hearing even more shouting coming from the two, she had finally managed to set her blurry vision straight. Turns out, Pamela was one of the figures. Her fist was tightly clenched around the tavern keeper's collar. The thing that shocked her most, was that she had somehow lifted him up into the air. With a sadistic grin, the silver haired woman pulled back her fist. "I'll show you the correct choice of punishment!"

Just as she was about to send his face on a collision course with her fist, the witch finally spoke up. "S-Stop….that isn't right." Despite the volume of her voice, she caught wind of it. Dropping him, she rushed over to the red cloaked woman. A concerned expression clouded her face as her emerald eyes examined her body. "He didn't do anything wrong, did he?" She asked worriedly, patting her down.

Speechless as ever, the witch wondered why she cared so much for her. No one, not even her family cared this much for her, yet a stranger she met, only a few hours prior treated her like a long lost friend. Nodding shyly, she tried tipping over her witch hat to cover her face, but it lied on the seat. Panicking, she pulled up on the collar of her cloak, and ducked her head inside of it like a turtle. The action altogether made the warrior chuckle heartily.

Putting her hands on her shoulders, she guided the witch back to her seat, before calling on the tavern keeper. He immediately rushed to the side of their table, notepad in hand. "I want you to get my friend here something warm. Make sure it'll fill her up too." Without so much as a word, he left into the backroom.

Her eyes timidly peeked out of her dress every now and then, only to encounter her 'saviors' smile. It was warm, and kind. Tempting her with the thought of having a nice conversation, for the first time in years. "

"You still haven't given me your name."

Popping her head out of the collar, she refused to make eye contact with her. Time crawled by, and the smell of freshly cooked food wafted their way. Hearing the footsteps of the encroaching man, he was seen holding two trays chock full of food. Setting them down, he went to go retrieve two glasses of water.

The red cloaked witch stared at the meal right in front of her. A hearty helping of soup, meat and potatoes topped off with steaming vegetables, and two dinner rolls. Her mouth instantly watered up, as the smell of it invaded her senses. Taking both a fork, and spoon in each hand, she began chowing down. A spoonful of the creamy dish slathered her tongue with a mushroom like flavor. It might have come off as bland to others, but thanks to her starving mind, it was the best soup she's ever tasted.

Skewering a sliced potato, a small chunk of meat, broccoli, and carrots, all on her fork, she devoured the combined food. The spices sprinkled onto each individual piece made for an unimaginable inexperience. Small sounds of delight escaped her with every bite. Even a smile presented itself on her face.

The thought of slowing down never occurred to her, and before she knew it, her dishes were empty. Not a single scrap was left. Placing her hand on her stomach, she slouched in her seat.

"So, you enjoyed it?" Pamela asked, slurping down another spoonful of soup. Perking up, the witch nodded. Of course she liked it. The first meal she had in days, and this woman was kind enough to pay for her.

Wouldn't this be taking advantage of her, she thought. The two having no history besides the meeting in the forest, and the chase she found torturous to her weak body. "I wonder if I can repay you…." she mumbled to herself, clutching the hem of her outfit tightly. What could she give her? She had no money, these were the only clothes she had on her back, and she highly doubted that the warrior would be interested in a few magic lessons.

As if she read her thoughts, the silver haired woman shook her hands. "No no, please don't worry. You shouldn't feel indebted to me." She reassured.

Getting out of the booth, the warrior stretched her weary body. "Well, it's time that I head back home."

The witch remained motionless. "Home….." Reaching over to her hat, she fit it tightly on her head. Scooting out of her seat, she turned her back on the one she had claimed to be her savior. "Thanks. It was good." She said, heading for the exit. Wrapping the cloak around herself protectively, she was ready to battle the elements. If there was somewhere she belonged, she'd find it, right?

Lost in thought, she bumped into two fleshy mounds. They were held firmly in the tight bodysuit of that familiar woman. Apologizing for being careless, she tried going around her. In the end, it was the same result as before. All she did was move to the spot she was heading. Rubbing her nose from both impacts, she looked up to find the stern facial expression of her savior.

"Now, where do you think you're going off to?" She inquired.

"To find…..a home." She croaked, tilting her witch hat down to obscure her face. Initially, the warrior thought that she was only lost, but it was more complicated than that. "Did….you lose your parents?"

Shaking her head, the witch's vermillion eyes gazed directly into her own emerald one's. They were filled with tears of sorrow, and loneliness. All her kind gestures had made her grown attached. This was the only person she felt comfortable around, yet she couldn't share her name to save her life.

Those eyes shimmered with tears that threatened to spill from them. Unsure of what to do next, the warrior brought her into a tight embrace. Feeling her lips quiver, her body followed soon, with a great trembling. Wrapping both arms around her saviors waist, she sobbed. Pleading for her to stay in an almost inaudible whisper.

Lifting her chin up, the warrior wiped away her tears. "I know this may be sudden, but would you like to come join me?" She smiled. "R-Really? You...You mean it?"

Giving her a thumbs up, she grinned. "There's always room for more!" She encouraged. "But, on only one condition." Eyes wide with excitement, the witch was on edge. "Tell me your name."

Silence.

Walking right past her, the witch stood at the doorway. Turning sharply on her heel, her fingertips took ahold of the rim of her hat. Pointing directly at her, she winked. "The names Shelly! Watch, next time I'll save you!" She said cheekily. "Is….what I should say….right?"

Sighing to herself, Pamela motioned for her to follow. Making their way out into the cold, autumn night, the two continued down the long stretch of road until they made it to a carriage. The driver greeted the two, and bowed to the warrior. "I see that your mission was a success." He acknowledged, opening the door to the side of the vehicle.

"It went much more smoothly than I anticipated, but I can't complain." She replied, climbing aboard. As she waited for her companion to get in, a minute passed by without anything happening. Curious as to why she was taking so long, the silver haired woman peeked out of the carriage, and saw the witch fumbling with her dress.

"Can…I-"

"Shelly, it's perfectly fine. Now, stop worrying, and just climb aboard." Startled, she scurried up in a hurry. Her hat bounced around, due to its rather oversized state; especially the small bell at the end.

Closing the door on her way in, she sat down next to her savior. With the jerk of the cabin, the ride to some unknown location begun.

Thanks to her old, recluse like nature, the witch had difficulty starting a conversation. Would she bore her? Would the sound of her voice lull her to sleep? Giving up before even trying, she felt a hand at the top of her head. It pulled off the hat in a hurry, sending her into a flurry of embarrassment. Well, this would have been the case, but instead, it was gently guided to Pamela's lap.

Putting up no resistance, she rested her head comfortably on the soft, pillowy thighs. "There's no need to worry. If you try to rush something, it'll only turn into a mess." She cooed, stroking the witch's ocean blue hair.

Easing the tension on her mind, she slowly closed her eyes, in hopes of catching a goodnight's sleep. She felt safe, right here. Was this what they meant by home is where the heart is? If it was, then that would explain the happy, warm feeling in her chest.


	3. Chapter 3

/Apologies if this chapter turns out to be rushed, or a bit sloppy.  
But there's more juicy scenes coming soon.  
Enjoy!

.

.

* * *

Tossing and turning in her sleep, Shelly grasped at the sheets underneath her. The pillow that her head rested against was of the finest feathers in the land, molding into any shape whenever she moved. A snuggly and warm blanket covered her body as she breathed in lightly. Peaceful, and undisturbed.

While she was off in her world, Pamela smiled at her companion. They had arrived here a few days prior, but the witch was still out cold. Her conclusion was that she had been wandering around restlessly. Fearful of bandits, animals, and the like. With nowhere to go.

Around the afternoon, she went to go check up on her. Sitting down on a chair she had placed right next to her bed, the warrior glanced outside at the cloudy day. In the grand estate that belonged to the woman she admired; or more commonly referred to as, the Goddess Felice.

Her benevolent nature allowed for the sheltering of the witch, despite the other followers being wary of her presence. Though, this all happened while she was being carried inside by the warrior.

"Tell me, why do you feel the need to take responsibility for this one?" Asked a clear and light voice. Letting out a sigh, she turned to face a woman, garbed in a gothic violet and black dress. An umbrella in hand, she twirled it around the spacious hallway, as if there was nothing better to do.

Hesitating whether or not to answer, Pamela's uncertainty caused her to smile in an irritating fashion. "Oh, what's wrong, little girl? Don't you have a mind to answer your elder's question?" She added, fixing her dark raven hair.

When the two made direct eye contact, there was no denying in the warrior's scowl. Her eyes merely reflected off of those dusty gray ones. This deathly look had no effect on someone who's only fear was in losing her subjects. "If you feel that attached to her, then come to me whenever she perishes. I may have a thing or two that could bring her back."

Laughing at her own dark sense of humor, she saw the silver haired woman's fist clench tightly. "Mizerka! I swear, if you do not-"

"Calm down, it was only a joke. And why the name? You're much cuter if you call me big sis." She teased.

Feeling her face burn with embarrassment, she looked away, She hated whenever her sister brought those memories up. "I'm not a little girl anymore! Besides, I don't have any reason to." She countered,

Pulling off a fake pout, she made her way to her younger sister's side. "How rude. Showing no respect for your sister's wishes." Taking a hold of the silver antenna, she pulled on it roughly. A yelp of pain escaped the young one as she felt it being stretched out painfully. "Now, how do you refer to me?" The dark undertone sent shivers down her spine.

"B-Big sister!" Pamela cried, near tears. Smiling genuinely, Mizerka let go of it. The sight of it bouncing back into place causing her to giggle. "My, it seems like it has a mind of its own." Putting a hand on top of her younger sister's head, she began stroking it comfortingly. There was no hate and love cycle. Only pain and love.

After the pain had faded away, is when she found the gesture soothing. Soon, she felt herself leaning against her elder sister. Shutting her eyes, she relaxed from the stimulating treatment. It was amazing at what a simple touch could do.

Stirring from the blissful state, her emerald eyes gazed upon Shelly's sleeping form. Just how long would she stay like this? It was starting to become worrisome. "Isn't it rather odd?" Mizerka began. "She's been in that coma like state for the past several days, and has not once broken from it."

Nodding in agreement, she looked up to her from the seat. "Does that mean she's…" She mumbled, afraid of what the truth might be. "Of course not. This is due to exhaustion, not any type of injury. If there was anything wrong, then Soleil would have detected it beforehand." She answered in response, quelling any of her worries.

"Look, your duties are those of Felice's, not to take in and care for hitchhikers." She stated. "Furthermore, you shouldn't be involving those around you into your own affairs."

Being reprimanded by her didn't help her in the least bit. Noticing the distress on her face, Mizerka shook her head. "Well, I'm off now. If there's any update on her condition, be sure to notify me."

As her heel clicks echoed down the hall, Pamela gripped the arms of her chair. As seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, she awaited for the moment the witch would awaken.

* * *

In the dead of night, two bright vermillion eyes slowly adjusted to the dark room; dimly lit by the fluorescent moonlight shining through the window. Gently tilting her head to the side, she noticed an open arm chair. Was someone watching her while she was asleep? If so, then why would they?

Shifting around in bed, she placed an elbow against the soft mattress, to keep her upright. This way, she would have a clear view of her surroundings. Conjuring up a small flame, the room flickered with light.

Feeling for her hat and cloak, she was only met with a few strands of her hair, and a white sleeping gown. The soft fabric felt cool against her skin. Getting out of bed, her bare feet felt a polished, wooden floor. With each step she took, the wind would howl outside the building. It was getting rather cold these days, so the sound was more or less comforting in the silence of the room.

Twisting the doorknob, the door creaked open into a long stretch of hallway. Circular spheres of light hung from the ceiling. From what she could gather, it was magic. From whom or what could have casted it, and still had the power to control it from afar, was a mystery.

Walking down the never ending path, she heard a light tune playing from down a corner. It was soft, and gentle. Like that of a mother singing a lullaby to her newborn child. The sound lured her in, like that of a siren. Finally meeting a pair of large double doors, the music had grown louder and louder. It all cumulated from this source, but what could be causing it? Grabbing the latch, she pulled opened the door.

As it turned out, the room itself was a garden. A variety of beautiful flowers studded the area, as well as works of art adorning the walls themselves. A giant bay window revealed the ever hanging moon shining its light. Bathing the flora in a hue of colors. In the center of it all, was a woman. She stood dignified, as her hands strung along the chords of her harp. With each pull of a string, the melody would reverberate down the halls.

Shelly's body swayed with each note of the entrancing music. As her eyes landed on her hair, she was surprised to see the same silver hue. Those features belonged to that of her savior. Rushing up to her in a hurry, a small look of excitement crossed her rather dull countenance, as she was about to greet her. Though, this fantasy was short lived.

Instead, the moment the figure turned around to face her, it glowered. Seemingly infuriated with her interruption, the witch had overlooked one crucial detail. Though they shared the same hair color, antenna, and emerald green orbs, this one had a ponytail that reached her ankles. "To what do I owe this irksome woman who so rudely disturbed my melody?" She asked. Flinching at her cold words, Shelly's expression formed into an apologetic frown. There wasn't anything she could say to calm this woman. "Oh? Does this maiden think I am unworthy of hearing her sweet voice? Do you feel entitled to those words you keep to yourself?"

Her barrage of questions caused the witch to shrink. She just wanted to be far away from the current situation at hand. It was extremely uncomfortable, not to mention, demeaning. Regaining her composure, the look-a-like swiftly spun on her heels. Facing the glistening moon, she began playing her harp once again. Along with it, she even sang a few lyrics.

They almost caused her to forget the foul mouthed, ill-tempered woman's words. She couldn't hate her, that was impossible. There was no room in her fragile heart left for anger. Walking back towards the entrance, she exited the room. The melody drafted through the slips and cracks; following her whether or not she wanted it to.

Regardless of the majority of hallways that were identical, her keen memory allowed her to travel down the right path. Approaching the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks. That room….despite its cozy bed, did nothing to serve as a replacement for 'home.' "Pamela…." She mumbled, the once dull, and bleak look returning. Where could she have gone to? Surely the warrior didn't just leave her here.

"Wonder….where she is." Opening every door she came across quietly, Shelly peeked inside. They were mostly just women. Faceless individuals she had no meaning to befriend. Err, more like she couldn't. "Sorry…." She apologized quietly, each time she found them shifting around restlessly. Finding a set of staircases, the witch chose to go up. It was the only sensible choice, since going down would be more of a living room, ideal first floor type of estate. On the third floor, there was a drastic shift in design. Insignia's of petals decorated the doors, each with an individual shade, and color. Even the walls had a strange, waving pattern on them, as if someone was drawing wind.

"Pam….where...are you?" There were just five doors this time. With the fifth one in the center of it all, straight down the corridor. The doors were that of the gardens, but studded with live flowers.

Entering the first door on her left, she found someone sleeping soundly underneath a blanket. It went up to their head, obscuring any familiar facial features, all but one. A silver strand of hair poked out like a sore thumb. Which meant…. "This is...her….what if I, asked…." Shuffling to the side of her bed, the witch slowly lifted a corner of the blanket up. There, her tranquil expression was a sight to behold. She was garbed in the same white sleeping gown as her companion was. "Did she give this...to me?" The thought made a smile appear on her face. "Why're you...so kind, to someone...like me?"

Earning a light snore in response, Shelly let out a soft giggle. Slipping underneath the covers, she felt her saviors arm drape over her. It brought her closer, until she was pressed up against her chest. Perhaps she thought the witch was some type of stuffed animal?

None of that mattered, as she felt at home right here. The warm embrace was enough to lull her into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter is a bit short, so I hope you enjoy what work I put into it, but trust me. There's much, much more better scenes coming up.  
For now, I hop you enjoy this.

.

.

* * *

The following morning, Pamela winked her eyes from sleep. The sun was shining brightly into the room, bathing the place in its warmth. Yawning, she felt something warm press up against her. It was molded in the exact shape as a human, but she remembered nothing of bringing another one in her room. Lifting the blanket, she was met with the sight of the witch snuggling up besides her.

Sighing, she shook her gently. A small groan escaped Shelly's mouth as she rubbed her eyes of the sleep. The sunlight irritating her as she shielded her eyes from the harsh rays. "Morn...ing…." She mumbled sleepily, her head slightly lolling to one side as she fought off sleep.

"Why're you in my room?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow. Gazing into her eyes with a tired look, the witch stretched. "I didn't feel comfortable by myself…" she replied. Pinching the bridge of her nose, the warrior got off of her bed. "Why didn't you wake me up beforehand?" "Because….I didn't...want to disturb you."

Frowning, she got up from her spot, and reached out to the witch. "Let's just drop it for now. We have many more things to do today." She added, opening up her closet. "We…?" Nodding, the warrior changed into her typical attire. Not minding the little 'audience.' "Of course, but first, we have to see what you think of our Lady."

"Lady?" Putting her finger to her chin, Shelly thought carefully about who this might be. Would it be that lookalike? If it was, she wouldn't know how to handle it, or _if_ she could.

Heading for the door, Pamela glanced over her shoulder at Shelly. "Aren't you going to come along?" Shooting up from her spot, the witch followed her outside. Their walk down to the first floor was short, thanks to the guidance of the warrior.

Whilst greeting fellow followers of Felice, the witch heard the light pitter patter of feet coming from behind her. Catching a glimpse of a white and golden bow, she grew curious as to who it belonged to. Almost all of the women here were adults, but this one's head barely made it past the shoulders of an average woman.

"Excuse me! Coming through!"

Several women gasped as a young girl broke through the crowd. She was wearing a white skirt dress, with a light blue lining along the end of it. A gold bracelet on each wrist, and a pair of black sandals. With each step she took, the ribbon lying on her headband would bounce. Her milky white skin perfectly accentuating childlike innocent, and her crystal blue eyes radiating happiness. As if to top it off, a beauty mark was placed directly near her left eye.

In her arms, a dress was flailing wildly behind her. Coming to a complete halt in front of the witch, she held out the item towards her. "You're Shelly, aren't you? Then guess what I have for you!" She gloated joyfully. Taken aback by her positive personality, the witch hesitated to retake her clothing. "I-I….tha-"

"I also brought you this!" She said, pulling her hat out of thin air. How she did so was as much of a surprise to Shelly as it was to Pamela. "I stayed up pretty late washing them carefully, and even drying them!" Smiling nervously at her, the witch tried to thanking her again. "You...must have put forth a lot of effort."

Nodding eagerly, the girl pumped up her arms in the air. "Maybe Lady Felice will praise me for doing such a great job!" She cheered, clasping her hands together. Her energetic tone ceaselessly amazing her.

Before she could continue, the warrior ruffled the girl's shoulder length brown hair. "Listen Lara, why don't you go over to Soleil and wake her up?"

"But Soleil told me to never wake her up in the morning." She replied. "Then just say that her sweet big sister wants to meet with her." Pamela grinned, knowing that it would get on her nerves. "Well...if you say so."

Handing over Shelly's items, Lara ran back up the stairs to the third floor. The warrior guided her companion to the nearest bathroom, and told her to make a quick change. After all, she couldn't go everywhere in that sleeping gown of her's.

* * *

With each step up the stair's, Lara hummed one of Soleil's many tunes. Amazed by her mastery of Symphomancy. How one could weave spells into music, and aide those around her. It was an important asset in battle, that most of the followers would be honored to receive. Although, this did make her arrogant in the process.

Reaching the third floor, the girl took the first door on the right. Barging into the room, she tiptoed to the silver haired woman sleeping soundly on the bed. Staring at her form, she shook her lightly; in hopes that she wouldn't wake up cranky. This did nothing, but earn a soft slap on the hand.

Putting more effort into her task, she shook her violently, until she received a knock on the head. The symphomancer grumbled sleepily, and shifted in bed. "C'mon! Stop being a lazybutt!" Lara groaned, pinching the skin on the woman's arm. This slight irritation finally stirred her.

Gazing at her tiredly, Soleil's expression soon morphed into one of extreme annoyance. "You again….child, what do you think you're doing in my room?" "Your sister told me to go wake you up." She said. Pinching the bridge of her nose, the woman sighed heavily. "If it's Mizerka, you can tell her to just go to hel-"

The girl knew exactly what was coming, and covered her ears; blocking out the inappropriate words. "Lara, take your hands off your ears."

"NO! LADY FELICE SAY'S IT'S UNLADYLIKE TO SPEAK SUCH ABHORRED WORDS!" She countered. Growing frustrated with each passing second, Soleil gave her a rough pound on the head; causing her to cry out. "H-Hey! Watch it! It's your fault that I'm stupid!" With a teary eyed look, Lara bit down on the symphomancer's exposed arm.

A loud scuffle was heard outside the door, and even to the floors below. Walking out of the room unscathed, the girl waved at the beaten woman. "Don't keep us waiting!" She smiled, making her way to the stairs.

Crawling towards her harp, Soleil strung along a few chords. An aurora of beautiful colors waved through the air, and towards the girl. As she took her first step on the case, the electrical phenomenon pushed her down.

The loud tumbling of her body made a small smile appear on the woman's face. "Sweet….sweet...harmony…" She muttered.


	5. Chapter 5

-Hello long time no see. Sorry about the lack of updates, I've been rather busy with some other things.  
And with my mini hibernation of creativity, and Skyrim remastered, it's been a challenge to focus.

Anyway, I hope this chapter is to your liking!  
Also, for clarification:  
/000/ = Scene break

.

.

* * *

Carrying the girl to the stables, Soleil was busy kicking herself for being fooled into doing this. Just a few moments ago, after she had tripped her down the stair's, Lara started crying; framing her for spraining her ankle. Of course, the symphomancer panicked. She hated the fact that Felice favored her most among the followers, and to even dare lay a finger on her was the equivalent of murder. Well, unless certain circumstances call for it.

Well, that's what she thought. The Goddess herself never claimed it, but the rumors she heard were enough to instill fear. An open field was placed directly next to the stables, so the animals would be able to roam.

At the far corner, was a dragon. Its azure scales shimmered with the sunlight as it lied curled up. A white mane ran down its back, with two angelic wings sprouting out. Blinking open its yellow eyes, the creature's head dipped at the sight of the young girl.

"Zeravehl!" She cried. Pushing herself off of the woman, the symphomancer held her back as she tried running off. "You aren't going anywhere until I check up on that injury." She ordered. "Oh, that's okay! I'm not hurt at all!" She admitted.

Rather than lay into the girl, she just dropped the entire situation altogether. Bidding her farewell, she left the dragon tamer.

Running her hands through Zeravehl's mane, she hopped onto its back in a rush of excitement. "Careful, I'm not some animal." He spoke to her, in a deep, and brooding voice. "But you are! When you show me you have two thumbs, then I'll believe you!" She giggled. Blowing a puff of smoke out of its nostrils, he turned its head so that it would be face to face with his master. "Child, I am not one to trifle with. I have seen firsthand, the lives, and deaths of many humans."

The dragon's yellow eyes pierced into the toughest of beings, but she was left unfazed.

"Aww, you're just a big softy." Kissing its snout, Lara continued unknowingly belittling him. Albeit, those around them just stared at the young girl. The two weren't communicating aloud, but telepathically. "Shouldn't you be training now?"

Shrugging off the question, she just rolled off its side. "Training is boring. All it does is waste my energy and make me tired." She confided, leaning back on his folded wings. "If all you do is relax, how will you protect those around you?" He asked. Thinking for a moment, she gazed at the passing clouds. "We have Felice for that. She'll protect us."

"And what if she fails to arrive to your aide?"

"Then Pamela can handle all the baddies. She's even said it herself. No monster is tough enough to take her down!" She exclaimed confidently, punching the air. Chortling at her conviction, Zeravehl curled his tail around her waist. "What happens if Pamela fails to do so?"

"Then Mizerka's got my back! She's Pamela's big sister after all!" There was no doubt in her mind with any of the answers. They far outmatched her in skill, and experience. So why should she, right?

"Child, your mind deceives you. No one has limitless strength. At one point, you too, will be backed into a corner, and when that happens, what will you do?"

Speechless, Lara tried answering its question, yet all that came up were blanks. "Will you call upon my power?" Earning no response, he continued. "If you yourself run out of stamina, what then? I cannot assist you, for I have not deemed you powerful enough to share my strength."With a nasty sneer she had never seen before, Zeravehl tightened his tail around her. "Although, if one were to ask of it from me, the results wouldn't be pretty. Especially unprepared individuals like yourself."

A shiver ran down her spine as the creature's voice was filled with something sinister. Dread lurked near her heart, threatening to pull it down into the dark abyss. "Be careful, little one. You must be aware at all times." Finishing, he unfurled his appendage. Clutching a handful of grass, the dragon tamer's mind throbbed with pain. Gradually weakening, it felt like her life force was being drained from her; no, not drained. Repressed.

Her vision grew blurry, and her eyes drooped. "Rest." He mumbled. Felice...what would she think of her now? Against both the wishes of her, and the dragon, Lara spent the past few weeks lazing around. Not a single ounce of progress was made. Why did it matter either way? She's strong in her own right? But the others….

Using all the strength she could muster, the girl struggled to stand. Her knees were shaking, as if she had just ran a marathon. Stumbling towards the training yard, she caught concerned glances from the rest of the followers.

Smiling weakly at them, she regained her footing. Her motions were less labored now, and were full of energy. The energetic young girl was back.

The sight of the high stone walls assured her of her successful journey. Inside, there were several pits for the meaning of sparring matches; held by several women. After that, came a line of practice dummies, and archery targets. Sticking close to the wall, she observed all the techniques they held within their possession. Heading for the armory, she met two familiar faces.

Shelly, awkwardly wielding a sword, and Pamela, instructing her on the correct stances. "No no! You're doing it all wrong." She criticized, correcting the witch's posture. The warrior took the weapon in her own hand, and stood in her signature stance. "Mirror me." She instructed.

Nodding shyly, the witch did as she was told. Pulling it off wasn't the problem, keeping it was. Unlike her savior, she hadn't built any muscles for battle. Being stuck inside a laboratory left no room for that.

Rolling her eyes, Lara approached the silver haired woman, and pulled on her top. Looking behind her, she had to tilt her head down to see the girl. "Hello there, Lara. Is something the matter?" "Yeah, you can't teach her that." She pointed out. "Teach her what?"

"You can't teach her how to wield a sword. It's just not possible." She stated, her crystal blue eyes reflecting off the steel blade. "That's ridiculous. Anyone has the potential to learn something different." She countered. "Yes, but it is much wiser if you tried finding out what her affinity is, first."

"What are you suggesting here?" She puzzled, examining the witch. Pressing her index finger against her cheek, the dragon tamer thought up of several possibilities. "Well, shouldn't you first ask her if she's experienced in any school, or form of weaponry?" Clearing her throat, Pamela apologized to her companion for forcing this lesson on her.

"N-No….it's okay, I….understand…."

"So, do you have any special talents?" "Pamela, this isn't an interview." Lara scolded her, earning a rather surprising cheeky look from the warrior. "Sorry, should've phrased that differently." Gazing into her vermillion eyes, she waited.

Reaching into her cloak, she had her hand wrapped around a dark rod. In one quick motion, she pulled out an entire staff. One end was ignited, burning with an intense flame that she didn't mind. "M-Magic…" She stuttered nervously. Holding out her free hand, she held her index finger in the air; emitting a strange vapor of orange and green. Drawing patterns in the air, the noxious gas created a halo around her. It orbited like a ring, until it vanished.

The two followers were genuinely impressed by this feat. Making it all the more embarrassing. Bringing down the witches hat to her face, she hid her blushing face. "You did wonderfully." The warrior congratulated, lifting her chin up.

Balancing on her toes, Lara reached for the hat. Exposed to everyone's gaze, she felt a need to take it back. By the time she had turned around, the dragon tamer was at the far end of the room. Wielding a longsword that was much too big for her. The guard was oversized, but the blade was thin and sharp enough for slashing and thrusting. Though, seeing it done by this girl would be amusing.

"Quit acting so shy! There's people who care about you!" The girl yelled, holding the hat in one hand. "Why do you choose to hide behind this?" Snatching the item back from her, Pamela dusted it off. Placing it firmly back on her head, she put two hands on her shoulder. "You are, who you are. I have no clue what your past must have been, and I don't want to intrude on it; but I will always be here for you."

"Yes…..Pamela…." She acknowledged, awkwardly wrapping her arms around the woman's waist. She sure was horrible at social cues. Though, it did make her look cute in the process. "I hope you come out of that shell sometime. I want to meet the person behind those shy eyes."

Witnessing the two bonding, fond memories of her dragon filled her mind. Lara couldn't keep ignoring its advice. Neither could she let her comrades down. An intense passion burned in her. She had never felt more ready

/000/

Standing on the sidelines, Shelly's hands were nervously clasped together. They shook as she watched the scene unveil in front of her. The warrior had been challenged to a match against the dragon tamer. It wasn't to settle a dispute, or anything of that nature. Lara just took heed of Zeravehl's advice.

Training is important, and one should keep track of their progress with a comrade. With wooden practice swords, the two stood opposite of eachother in the pit; not to say it was a dual strictly for the weapons. A crowd was gathered around them. A rare sight indeed. The most favored among Felice, versus, who most considered to be the strongest. Shelly didn't seem to mind them this time. She was more worried about her savior's safety.

"Just because you're younger, doesn't mean I'm going to hold back." Pamela said. She was busy stretching for the match, as the young dragon tamer bounced on her toes, like a boxer. "I'll show you just how strong I've become! Then you'll have to bring me along on your next mission!" She proclaimed, getting a rise out of her opponent. "Such big words, for such a small girl."

Gritting her teeth, the girl stomped her feet into the soil. "At least I don't call Mizerka big sis-" Lunging at her, the warrior drove a knee into the dragon tamer's stomach. All the wind was knocked out of her on impact, causing her to collapse. Eyes wide with shock, she lied helplessly on the floor.

The crowd roared with cheers as the match was over in seconds. "That'll teach that spoiled brat!" One woman shouted. "What was she thinking? Standing up to her? She never stood a chance." "I guess that's why they call her Lightning Fury Pamela." Another added in, causing a smirk to break out on the silver haired warrior's face.

Shelly herself joined the crowd; ecstatic that she had won. "You….did it!" she cheered, catching her attention. Waving at her, she shot her a wink.

While the crowd was already congratulating its winner, Lara heard a voice at the back of her mind. It was…. Soft. It hungered for power. The power that belonged to the dragon. What it said…. She couldn't accept it. Getting back up on her feet, she held an arm over her stomach. "Good...move….there.." She gasped, doing her best to smile. Thanking her for the compliment, the warrior ruffled her hair. "Thanks kid. Why don't we shake on it?"

Holding out her hand, she awaited for her to accept it. Reaching out for it, Lara's lips curled into a small grin. Whilst she wasn't looking, she winded up a chop with her sword, only to be blocked effortlessly by the woman. "Still haven't had enough?" She asked playfully.

Without so much as muttering a word, the dragon tamer let go of the handle on her blade. Grabbing her wrists tightly, she used the warrior's knees as leverage. Hopping off from the ground, she delivered flying kick to her stomach; toppling her down. Reaching for her weapon, she spun on her heels to find nothing.

A painful blow at her ribs soon occurred, followed by one on her hand, left leg, and arm. She was left open to any of her attacks as her opponent moved with incredible speed. With a spinning kick, Pamela's boot connected with her hips. Sending her sprawling to the side, like that beast so many nights ago.

She was vastly outmatched, in strength, and skill. "Those nimble movements of yours were quite impressive, but, they weren't enough to harm me." Pamela said, tossing the sword high into the air. "Let's see how much more abuse you can withstand before it falls back down." A small crackle of lightning ran down her hair, turning several strands of it a brilliant fuschia. With one step, she disappeared. A trail of lightning followed her unreadable movement as she knocked the girl into the air. Her light body floated for a second or two, before being knocked down to the ground with a single kick.

The impact caused a loud thud to echo, but it didn't stop there. Knocking her back up, the warrior zipped back and forth in a flurry of flashes; delivering multiple blows. Leaving her suspended in the air. Lightning followed her wherever she moved. Making her whereabouts obvious for less than a second.

Once the wooden item had dropped back to earth, she took a hold of the dragon tamer's neck with her boots, and slammed her back down.

Her defeat was anything but celebrated. The entire battle was completely one sided, making for a painful loss on her side.

The fuschia color faded from her hair, and it was completely silver again. Stabbing the earth with the wooden blade, she approached the girl again.

This time, that urge was stronger. Pulling at her. Tempting her with the desire of being strong. To overpower this woman she could never beat. She knew what Zeravelh had said, but….

Being lifted into the arms of the warrior, Lara was unable to open one of her eyes. It was swollen shut from the intense beating she had received, and to make it worse, the one who came to her aide was HER. She tried squirming out of her grasp, but let out a small cry of pain instead. "Lara, don't move. Your body isn't able to handle the stress" Pamela informed her, fixing her hair.

Feeling water well up in her eyes, the dragon tamer felt all her wasted potential go to naught. If she hadn't been so lazy, things wouldn't have turned out like this. Digging her nails into her own arm, the dragon tamer finally shook herself free. The pain was excruciating, but it was the warm blood running down her forearm that made it bearable. "This fight...isn't over!" She croaked, limping towards the woman.

Taking her weapon in hand, she would use all her remaining energy into this final move! Sighing to herself, the warrior was about to call off the match, until she was caught off guard by the dust Lara kicked up. It was enough to momentarily blind her. Swiftly striking the pit of her knee, even Pamela couldn't ignore the sharp pain, causing her to kneel.

Reaching out to stop the next series of blows, the dragon tamer countered it by striking at the palm of her hand. Reeling her hand back, her guard was wide open. Pulling back on her final swing, everything suddenly went black.

The warrior's fist was firmly planted on her solar plexus. It was all over. Lara lied limply on the floor, out cold. She was broken. Both in spirit, and body. As the crowd dispersed, Shelly and Pamela were the last ones left.

"Is she…" She mumbled quietly, worried for her well being. "For now, we need to get her to the infirmary." Carrying her down to the building, the witch followed suit.

/000/

Blinking its yellow eyes, Zeravehl rested his head on the cool grass. A gentle breeze blew in, ruffling its white hairs. "What is it that you seek now? Your crumbling spirit, and will are diminishing. Like the flames of a candle."


	6. Chapter 6

/Thanksgiving has really made me lazy. A bit too much. Haha.  
So why not fix that, with a short, cute little chapter. Showing off one of my favorite characters, with great character. (Sorry for the lame pun.)  
Anyways, enjoy!

.

.

* * *

Organizing a stack of papers, a certain necromancer peered outside her study's window. The clouds had colored the once blue sky, dull and lifeless. So it fit the mood for her research. One could not comprehend her train of thought, making those around her uneasy. She never minded this. It only made her happy knowing that they lacked the capacity to understand her.

"Does it absorb, or dispel?" She thought to herself, spreading multiple sheets of papers onto the desk. Equations and hard data had found a disturbing answer to what she was seeking. Although, how it worked or did so was still as much of a mystery as was life. "A sample is required, but I know it went give in easily. It'll give me a run for all I know, without her presence there."

Sighing, she took off the hat adorning her head. "A mythical being said to have been rarely sighted, is now in the possession of that girl. Perhaps she could…." Rubbing her temples, she thought up of several different scenarios. Most ending in catastrophe. Resting her head on the desk, she tapped a finger against the polished surface.

Thanks to the witch her sister had brought back, only served to throw her off. Those markings on her body, they weren't tattoos. It's almost as if they were a part of her. Possibly ritualistic?

Both were interesting specimens in their own rights. She had dug up an interesting tidbit on that Shelly person.

Her family was famous for having a natural affinity towards magic. They raised the most powerful sorcerers in all of Grand Gaia. Unlike her, Mizerka was destined to be her lesser. In several ways, they were similar. Their lack of interest on the social construct that they lived in, bleak outlook, and pursuit of knowledge.

"What new and exciting revelations. These people never cease to amaze me." First, a member of the divine ten, a dragon tamer, and a witch? Her choice of following Felice was turning out to be a dream come true. Yet, she held no faith in the Goddess. No admiration. All this, coupled with her black heart, troubled the Goddess.

Plus, what would become of her two younger sisters without her? With the short tempered Soleil, and cheeky Pamela. Who could resist such darlings? "My, your elder sister would thank you two for convincing me to join. After all, if you two were to die in battle, who would be there to collect your souls?" She swooned, leaning back in her chair.

Her laughter echoed in the silent room, like a madwoman. Death was such a beautiful concept to her. No one ever truly died. These husks were just prisons themselves. Even those precious sisters of her's were just mere tools in the long run of things. "My sweet Pamela, why must yours be the most damaged, and faithful?" She asked, running her fingers across the violet ribbon on her hat.

"Those soft cheeks of yours. I love seeing the discomfort on your face as I tweak them to my satisfaction. Pulling on that silver antenna that so adorably tops off your short hair!" Bringing the hat to her chest, she let out a small, happy sigh. To her, they were the most precious subjects.

"Do not fret, your big sister won't be lonely after you're gone. You'll be the next weapon that I'll manifest for my undead knights." Elated with her fantasy, she stood from her spot, and twirled. The dress following along with her dance. A small gasp escaped her, and a look of terror appeared on her face. "But what of poor Soleil? The girl has always been jealous of the attention I've given my little bolt of lightning! Think, think!" Snapping her fingers, a light bulb popped in her head. "Of course. How could I have been blind all along? She will be the next undead knight. Carrying her sister's sword into battle." Cupping her cheeks together, she swayed in place.

"It's such poetic justice!" She squealed.

Just then, a knock sounded at her door. Unlocking it, she was met with her benevolence. The one and only, Felice. To others, this would be an honor for her to reach out to you. In spite of that, Mizerka was left unimpressed. The smile on her face made it obvious as to what she was thinking about. One of the only two things she cared about.

"So," The Goddess began, in a firm and light voice. "What sick pleasures are you indulging yourself with this time?" Giggling all but innocently, the necromancer made her way back to her desk. She didn't mind whether or not anyone read them; they didn't have half the mind analyze it.

Entering the room, Felice took notice of a picture frame on a bookshelf. It was of the three siblings during their childhood. "So it seems you have some humanity left in you." She mused, standing right besides her. Smiling, she just shrugged. Getting back to work, Mizerka took a textbook from the bookshelf detailing the history of body art, and flipped it open.

Frowning at her, the goddess passed her an encyclopedia of magic. "You won't find the answer there." She added. Her all knowing omnipotence did come in handy. Well, even then, she didn't really know about her situation.

"I knew you had some sort of idea about that witch." The necromancer thanked her with a gracious bow. "Yes, but you shouldn't be sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." She warned. "Now then, where would the fun in having comrades be?"

Minutes passed by, as she took several notes on the strange markings on Shelly's body. Through her findings, she found out the marks were a blessing from some long forgotten God. The appropriate name given to it was the "Flame's Will."

Felice observed her; motionless. "How can you stay locked up in here? All to yourself, with nothing but research?"

"If there's no meaning to life, then I find no pleasure in doing anything at all." She responded coldly, scowling at the current passage. "You have family and friends. Why not cherish that?" "I'm busy."

"Then why not take a break and spend some time with them?" Resting a hand on her shoulder, Felice's mere touch brought a strange sensation to her being. "Are you that cold blooded to ignore their calls?" Her speculations weren't far off. "The mentality I live in is too dark for them to experience. I can't share my thoughts, at the risk of them running." She said, tightening her grip on the pen. "Before you say anything else, know that I am not a scared little girl. The dark never scared me."

Setting her arm back to her side, the goddess nodded. "I see." Reaching for the necromancer's hat, she found a small slip of folded paper pinned to the side. "Just so you know, Lara and Pamela got into a little fight." She reiterated.

"Aww, I feel sorry for the little girl." Mizerka teased, setting the book aside. Felice wasn't so happy with the news herself, but it was more of a test of strength. "I just wish she wouldn't get ahead of herself. She's still so fragile as a child."

Taking a stand, the necromancer was head to head with the goddess. "Don't worry, I've seen her take many more beatings than that before." "You don't quite understand. She still-"

"Has so much untapped potential. Quit acting as her mother, and treat her right. You're not helping her by keeping her caged up here. Send her out with us, or another group on the next task. I'm sure she'd appreciate it." Stepping out into the hallway, she caught her concerned glance.

For a Goddess of Benevolence, she sure was a worry wort. "I apologize if Pamela was rough on her during that match, but she just wants to show her how it is on the battlefield." She speculated.

Remaining silent, Felice was left defeated. She was absolutely right. Her doting nature had done nothing but led to this. The fight was inevitable between the two. All she wanted was to prove herself, and it ended horribly.

As her heels clicked with each step down the hallway, Mizerka had her hands folded on the skirt of her dress. A tranquil expression present on her face. The affairs she had involved herself in had taken a toll on the Goddess. Though she wasn't bothered by it. Slipping the folded piece of paper out, she hid around an empty corner.

Unfolding it neatly, a crudely drawn picture of her, and a familiar duo of silver haired girls appeared. The colors have since faded over time, but the sentiment only grew stronger. A big red heart was drawn near the top of her head, and several words were scribbled above that.

' _Even if you aren't perfect, you're still the best big sister around!'_

 _~From Sol and Pammy_

Pinning it back in place, she continued down to the infirmary, where she suspected her sister, and Lara were. All the while, a smile crossing her lips.


	7. Chapter 7

-Sorry, very sorry to those who even care about this! I've just been busy trying my hand at original stories and such, to improve my writing style. (Albeit, I made this months ago, so I have nothing to show for it.) Again, very sorry if I'm nowhere near as good as the other incredible writers on this site! Enjoy!

.

* * *

In the murky depths of a foggy landscape, the shadow of a looming beast flew through the sky. It's carnivorous rampage had led to the death of all those foolish enough to stop it. Bodies lied, torn to pieces; seemingly unrecognizable. Several of the corpses were charred by its all consuming fire; setting all nearby foliage ablaze.

Diving to the surface, it scooped out a survivor among the carnage. She screamed as its fangs sank deep into her flesh. The sounds of bones being crushed silenced her cries. A now, eerie stillness enveloped the area. All but one young girl remained. Injured, and alone.

Her crystal blue eyes stared at the creature flying above her. Circling its latest prey. Her dress matted with the blood of those who hopelessly tried to save her. Hiccuped sobs escaped her as she dragged herself to a woman close by. Her eyes stared lifelessly at the smoky sky.

With each step, her right arm throbbed with pain from the large gash she had received earlier. The weapon at her side dragged against the ground; a fruitless effort at making her feel somewhat safe. She couldn't even hope to lift it.

The beast's bellowing roar echoed loudly across the field, putting her on edge. Soon enough, she would be its next meal. But why? Why had they all given their lives for such a weak child? Why would they all abandon her with this demon? She was nowhere near strong enough to protect them. All she lacked was… "Power."

Her heart stopped. The booming voice frightening her beyond belief. The thing, it was right behind her. Yet it never snatched her up. Abandoning all common sense, she dropped her weapon, and ran screaming.

Her cries for help were met with only silence. Tears spilled down the sides of her cheeks as the loss of her friends damaged her psyche. Death was the only thing awaiting her as the beast chased her down effortlessly. Although, it did anything but catch her. Only sneering as the adolescent girl so desperately fled. "There's no escaping, child."

"Felice, Pamela, Mizerka, Soleil!" Glancing back, it was nowhere to be found. Even in the sky, there was no sign of it. "Someone, please save me…" She sobbed. Stumbling over a stray limb, she landed on her side. The contact of the cold, and barren ground against her wound causing a sharp cry to escape her lips.

Struggling to get back on her feet, the sound of two large wings flapping thundered in her ears. Pinning her down to the earth with its hind leg, the girl felt the air pushed out of her lungs. "Will you accept my offer?" It asked, pressing down on her rib cage uncomfortably.

Screaming, she beat her fists against it; in hopes that it would be enough to free. This did nothing but invoke its wrath. Pushing into her further, the sounds of her ribs cracking brought a sick and twisted smile onto its lipless snout.

A shriek of complete agony left her as they were crushed beneath its weight. Bringing its head closer to her face, it stared at her with its bright, reptilian eyes. "A child such as yourself neglects the luxuries in life. Failing to see what really matters in the end." Turning its head to the corpses drawn against the land, it snickered. "The strong must protect the weak after all, and look what that resulted in. Nothing but calamity. Your true weakness isn't your lack of power, but the dependence you place on others."

Too broken to even respond, she coughed up blood. The warm, glistening texture of the crimson substance decorating the scorched soil. Closing her eyes, she took one last glimpse at the creature before her. In essence, it was what she was trying to avoid all this time. Power corrupts, and she couldn't trust herself to wield it.

/

Blinking her eyes open, Lara found herself in the infirmary. Donned in a plain white t-shirt, and shorts, she tried recalling her most recent memories. There had to be some reason as to why she was placed here, but her sore body made it difficult to focus. Slipping out of the covers, she forced herself to sit up straight. It was stressful on her arms and legs, but she managed somehow.

At the corner of the room sat the witch, and the silver haired woman. They both seemed pleased with her recent recovery, and even more so that she was finally awake. Rubbing her sore forearm, the dragon tamer cleared her throat. "H-How long….was I out?" She asked. Her shaky voice worried the warrior. "A day or two, but don't worry. You didn't miss much." Pamela admitted, leaning back in her chair.

Mimicking her posture, Shelly's hat drooped forward, obscuring her vision. Peering at her, the warrior just shook her head. "You took quite the beating, and that's saying something. We're lucky that I wasn't able to inflict many injuries on you." She said.

"I see…" Looking down at her lap, her despondence became fully aware by the two women. The match itself must have meant so much to her, and losing it in a matter of seconds was crushing. They could do nothing, but watch as she struggled to comprehend her inferiority. Compared to them, she was but a novice. Leagues ahead of her.

There was no way in hell she was ever going to catch up to any of them. "What have I told you, time and time again, child? That there is still much more room for experience." Zeravehl cut in, scolding her through their mental connection. "A loss is a loss, but that shouldn't make you bitter. Learn from your mistakes."

The distress her psyche radiated attracted the attention of her dragon. Of course. She should've known better than not to expect its presence. "It doesn't make me feel any better. This feeling of humility doesn't make me feel proud; just hate myself." She replied. What point was there in acknowledging the warrior? Her superior swordsmanship, reflexes, and speed were unmatched.

Jealousy filled that void now. "You should not take it to heart. Calm down and think clearly." Zeravehl's counseling did nothing to stop this darkness from spreading in her usual happy demeanor. Clenching her fist, Lara trembled as she dealt with these negative emotions. No young girl her age should be put through that embarrassment. "It's just not fair…." She spoke aloud, catching the woman's attention. "Why? Why?"

Facing her, the pain and sorrow was all too visible in her crystal blue eyes. "Why did you have to do that!? If I had known better, than I…" Lifting an eyebrow, Pamela seemed confused by her statement. "But what point would there be in holding back?" She answered nonchalantly. The dragon tamer would be having none of that. "You know why! If you had just given me a chance, then-" "I did. In the end, you were only able to bruise me at best. Be proud of yourself." She countered, sitting up.

Taking a firm grasp on her pillow, Lara dug her nails into the soft material of it. "I-I'm not going to be satisfied with that lame excuse!" She snapped, The warrior sensed a strange shift in her personality. This wasn't just because of that match. No, it went much deeper than that. It was lust. For what, she had no clue.

In all her time around the girl, she had never so much as received a nasty look from her. That innocent child always enjoyed being around her. "Lara, if there's something wrong, you can tell me. I'm here for you." She added in, with a smile.

But that smile soon faded, as the girl's voice was full with animosity. "Shut up! You're not my friend, and neither is that dumb witch of yours, either!" The nightmare didn't help either. Portraying herself as weak. She couldn't even protect herself.

"Despite what you say, I'll continue to stick by your side. Whether you like it or not." The warrior stated, in a vehement manner. For an instant, her passionate and caring nature pierced the cloudy skies in the dragon tamer's heart.

Those cruel things she had said….were they actually from her? It would seem so, but...that voice. It influenced her. At the very back of her mind, it whispered sweet promises, that would overwhelm her. Yet this kind woman withstood all of her words.

Just when she was about to reach out to her, the scene of her body being used as a punching bag played over in her mind. The severe beating wasn't something she could let go of. Every punch, every kick, she was the one who had landed her here. If it hadn't been for that woman, she would be skipping about happily.

"You watch….the next time we fight, I'll make sure you won't be able to stand." Her threats were as clear as day. She was going to impress Felice, even if it meant breaking the warrior's bones. Taking her life wouldn't be bad, either. All it would take was just a certain slip up, and-

An extreme discomfort crossed her body as she was engrossed in her thoughts. Those same sounds her ribs made in that dream, those deathly screams, and that piercing pain caused by the gash. They were all signs of dominion. A supreme control over lesser, weaker beings, who couldn't hope to stand up to a true monster. Her stomach boiled, almost as if a fire was set in her belly.

Small groans sounding from her mouth worried the women. "K-Kid?" Troubled by the noises emitting from her comrade, Pamela get up from her seat.

The moment she was off of her seat, the girl's head shot straight up. Her expression was blank. Scanning the room, her eyes finally landed on the two familiar women. It was as if she was meeting them for the first time. Lazily shifting her gaze to the warrior, she scooted herself to the edge of the bed.

Unnerving even Pamela, the empty stare held no contempt, nor affection. Taking a foot off the mattress, she planted it firmly onto the cold tile floor. Hunched over like she was carrying some weight on her back, Lara examined her features for a brief moment. "Pam...ela?" She mumbled incoherently.

"Y-Yes...what is it?"

"Why….do I feel so angry?"

Completely unsettled by her question, she answered to the best of her abilities. "P-Perhaps you're still upset." With that, a small, forced smile crossed the girl's face. "Yes, that's it…. I'm just a sore loser."

Closing her eyes, the smile morphed into a frown. "Then why do I….feel like hurting you?" A thin cloak of white aura enveloped her body, with azure streaks flowing down her arms and legs. Lifting her eyelids, they were all met with a startling image. Her pupils had formed into reptilian like slits. She had lost consciousness, and given into the voice.

"I don't want to hurt you...I really don't…" She continued, swaying her arms as she stepped forward. "But if I can't control myself, you couldn't blame me….right?"

Alarmed by her approach towards her savior, Shelly took a stand in front of her. Pulling the staff out of thin air, and aiming it towards the dragon tamer. Her vermilion eyes warning her that if she were to take another step, that she would have to use force. "Don't…. You dare...hurt my friend!" She ordered, lighting the end of her weapon with fire.

Tilting her head, Lara took the burning end into her hand. Extinguishing the fire itself. Snapping the head off, she giggled lifelessly at the sight. "How cute...I didn't know you had a twig."

Glaring deep into the witch's eyes, Shelly crumbled from the terrorizing gaze. It was some...primordial evil, far beyond her comprehension. Backing away until her back was pressed against the wall, she was forced to witness the distance between the two close.

Holding out her hand, the dragon tamer's vision faded for a second. The world, was dark. Collapsing to the floor, all the markings on her body, and even the strange aura vanished. She was drained of her vitality, leaving her immobile. Bewildered by the sudden change of events, the silver haired woman slowly inched her way to the child.

Turning her over, the girl was absolutely terrified. Her anger had gotten the better of her, sending her to a pit of despair. Where the voice was strongest. Its resounding echoes driving her insane.

Whimpering, she lied defeated on the ground. Her muscles unyielding as she tried lifting herself up. Those eyes that had instilled fear, were now hopeless. Placing her back in bed, Pamela only looked at her with a sorrowful expression.

Shelly herself looked genuinely concerned. Standing by her side, the witch glanced at the broken stave. Holding the girl's hand, the warrior gave it a tight squeeze. "It's okay sweetie. Don't be afraid." She cooed. A few sniffles left the dragon tamer, as the comfort the woman provided worsened her mood. "Am I...a monster?"

Hesitant, the woman shook her head. "No, you aren't." She answered simply. "But, what I just did-" "Was just because you were angry, that's okay." As much as she wanted to face the facts, she decided to be ignorant. If her emotions were to get in the way, then surely, another accident like this would occur.

She was lucky that her wrath wasn't invoked; although, something deep down in her said that the restraints holding her back were about to burst. Distressed by this finding, she turned to her companion.

The witch's dull gaze read her mind. Making her way to the opposite side of the bed, she placed a hand on the girl's forehead. Mumbling an incantation, Lara stared blankly at the two. Blinking several times, a smile presented itself on her face. "Hey, what're you two doing here?" She asked, clueless. Glancing at her hand, she felt the warmth the woman was sharing with her. "And what am I doing here? I don't remember ever getting hurt."

Chuckling, Pamela threw a questioning glance at Shelly. Excusing herself from the conversation, the witch exited the room. Altering the child's memory made her sick to her stomach, but if it was for her, then it was okay, right? Somehow, this didn't make her feel better.

"My, what has you distracted?" It was the voice she heard so faintly in her sleep. The clear, and pleasant voice belonged to a woman garbed in a black gothic dress. Her dusty gray eyes bore into her own. Like a mask, she hid her own desires right in front of her. "It's quite nice having a sorceress among our midst. So that just begs the question; what's on your mind?"

Unable to avert her gaze, she lowered her head. Keeping a straight face, the witch reached for her hat. The moment she did so, Mizerka noted the black markings on her arm. "I'm curious, how did you get those?" She asked.

Frozen in place, she did her best to laugh off the question. "W-Why….do you...ask?" She inquired. Shrugging, the necromancer just grinned slyly. "Oh, no reason. To see such a rare marking in this lifetime is astounding. Even coming from one such as yourself, especially because of that prestigious lineage." Gently pulling her wrist away from her, she drew circles around her dark skin. "Are these recent tattoos? Or maybe…."

Ripping off her sleeves, more inky black signs appeared. All with a distinct shape, and pattern. "A cursed birthmark?" Yanking her arm away from the necromancer, Shelly bolted for her room. Tossing the torn cloth to the floor, Mizerka smiled at the panic-stricken woman. "Too bad, so sad. I guess this was a secret you didn't want coming out?" Continuing her tread to the infirmary, she smiled all the way down.

"To be born with such a blessing, in the end, it was only a nuisance. I've heard of the genius recluse from the main family. Everyone feared you, and they left you alone. Fearful of what you could become. Though, how you were able to stray from that destructive path is as clear as day."

Entering the patient's room, she saw her middle sister ruffling the dragon tamer's brown hair. Giggling as she told her to stop messing with it.

"The warmth in our hearts that yearns for love. That's what you've been looking for all this time, isn't it?"


	8. Chapter 8

Tapping her foot impatiently, Soleil glared at the girl sitting up on her bed. "T-The infirmary has been really busy lately, with all the visitors and what not." She squeaked, avoiding the woman's deadly emerald eyes. Groaning in annoyance, the symphomancer pulled on her ear roughly. The girl herself being tugged along in the process. "That wasn't my question. I asked how you were foolish enough to take her on?" She reiterated.

Breaking herself free from her grasp, she tried changing the topic at hand; but this only further irritated her. "Just how brain dead do you have to be to think you even stood a chance against her, Lara?" She scolded, lifting a balled fist into the air. Afraid that she'd give her a solid thrashing, the dragon tamer flinched. Closing her eyes; thinking that it'd shield her from harm.

Lowering it down to her side, the woman sighed. "I honestly doubt harming you will teach you a lesson." Walking towards the window, she observed the downpour of heavy rain. Thunder rumbled far off in the distance, as bolts of lightning lit the dark sky. All outdoor activities were cancelled, or put on hold. Which made it odd to see someone running down the stretch of road that led to the gates.

The setting sun had completely disappeared behind the thick, looming clouds. Marking down another day of the dragon tamer's recovery. Resting her elbow on the window sill, she peered out into the rainy scenery. "Do you ever get bored of being stuck in this room?" She inquired.

Lying flat on her stomach, Lara rested her head on the pillow her folded arms made. "Not really. I get to see everybody. Pamela, Shelly, Felice, Mizerka, and you!" She cried.

The corners of her mouth turned at the mention of her name being included. "Still, the moments when you're all to yourself must be terribly mundane."

"No, Zeravehl keeps me company, no matter the time of day." She admitted to happily, kicking her feet in the air.

"You know you shouldn't be moving around so much. Your body still isn't fully healed." Soleil commented. Feigning the actual reason as to what caused her to be in this state. "C'mon, I'm not that hurt. Plus, I'm A-ok!" Jumping out of bed, the girl ran over to give her a hug. As her arms wrapped the woman's waist, a blush as bright as the sun burned across the symphomancer's face.

"Even if you act like you hate me, I know deep down inside that you care." Hearing her every joyful giggle, she looked down, and came face to face with those crystal blue eyes. That milky white skin, and even the beauty mark. It was enough to drive her crazy! Clearing her voice, she guided the girl back to her bed. "I know you feel better, but I can't just let you walk freely." Making sure the curtains were closed, and the door was locked, she leaned in to the dragon tamer's ears. "Promise not to tell anyone about this."

Summoning her harp, she nervously strung a few chords. The hum of a beautiful melody played as her fingers continued to work their magic. Each musical note was backed up by her vocals, harmonizing the moment the two met. With her eyes closed, she looked serene. The rain had slowed down to a steady, and hypnotic tempo. Perfectly matching the music itself.

All these sounds proved too much for Lara, as her head drooped forward. The lids of her eyes grew heavier and heavier, as she struggled to stave off sleep. A warm, comforting feeling enveloped her body; one reminiscent of a mother holding her child dearly. Every ache and sore on her body faded away entirely.

Finishing the last note, her spell had weaved its way to the dragon tamer. Putting her in a deep, and restful slumber. Where all her wounds would be healed in the process. Bringing the covers up to her chest, the symphomancer made her way out to the hall. Flicking the lights off, she pulled on a few more strings; creating an aurora that dimly lit the room.

Pleased with the state of the young girl, she wished her a goodnight's sleep. One, that not even the most trained ears could catch.


End file.
